


But I've Heard That You Reap What You Sow (so around and around we go...)

by TheCoopermensch



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Jinx Holliday, M/M, Matt Turner, Multi, Original Character(s), Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCoopermensch/pseuds/TheCoopermensch
Summary: Pressing another kiss to her cheek, he rolled off her, allowing Veronica to reach across her side of the bed to pick her phone up off her night table. She barely heard him as he shuffled off to go make coffee, the name on her screen thoroughly distracting her. Dark brows furrowed together in both surprise and confusion before she slid her finger across the screen to answer.“Sheriff Keller?”There was a pause on the other end of the line and she heard the man suck in a breath before he spoke. Suddenly, there was a pit in her stomach, and a chill swept across the back of her neck, making the fine hairs there stand straight up on end.“Veronica, I’m going to need you to come up to the station. There’s something—well, it’s your dad…”Or, alternatively, The Gang Solves A Murder (Again)
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Veronica Lodge/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	But I've Heard That You Reap What You Sow (so around and around we go...)

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, a return to fanfic. 
> 
> I'd ask that people be gentle since this is my first time in almost ten years that I've published something non-academic, but since this is the internet, I know better than that. All I can say is that if you enjoy, let me know and if you don't, uh... there *is* the option to never read again. I promise, you and I will both feel better if you choose that one.
> 
> I would, however, like to address a few things:
> 
> One, Riverdale as a show has made me unable to let whatever atrocity they're trying to pass off as season 5 stand. So, that means I have to write my own season 5, canon-divergent AU. Ugh. I hate it here. 
> 
> Two, because this is canon divergent, we're backing up to the graduation episode, and springing forward from there. Which means that when we last checked in with our characters, Betty was going off to Yale. Veronica was going off to Barnard. Jughead was going off to Iowa. And Archie joined the ...army, I guess.
> 
> Three, for the record, I did not watch the Hedwig episode or anything beyond it. Cheers to those of you who did, I applaud your strength and tenacity. But with that said, everything I know of the last few episodes between The Scene That I Unfortunately Decided to Keep and Run With and the Time Jump, I have learned from my tumblr dash, which is... heavily Bughead centric. If I get some details of the last few episodes mixed up, might I remind you that this is canon divergent! The rules are made up and the points don't matter (and anyway, at least I can do *math* so that's something).
> 
> Four, it's probably safe to categorize this as a Bughead fic, though the core four and many other characters will all be present. However, most of the POV's in this fic will be limited to the Core Four, and the main relationship will be Bughead, with plenty of Veronica and her new man too. If you are looking for a lot of Choni content (and definitely if you are looking for a Varchie romance), then this is not your fic. Sorry. 
> 
> And five, Jinx Holliday might be a name you recognize from the Archie Universe At Large, as it was the last name given to Lil Jinx later on. My Jinx Holliday and that Jinx Holliday have little to nothing in common. That said, I am very fond of her and I hope you like her! 
> 
> Finally, all standard disclaimers apply. Characters except Jinx and Matt are not mine, no resemblance to real people intended, I don't own Riverdale, yadda yadda, do we even have to do these anymore? I genuinely don't know.

Betty Cooper sat almost motionless, half-blinded by the neon glow surrounding the diner windows, eyes fixated on the man in the booth. She had long since given up on willing her legs to work, instead keeping a trained eye on the mirror, watching him as Pop Tate came over to pour him another cup of coffee.

She had been sitting in the parking lot for… well, she wasn’t exactly sure at this point. A while, she could have answered truthfully, if not ambiguously. And yet still, Betty could not find the courage to move.

To say she had been dreading this moment was an understatement. What had possessed them to make that stupid pact anyway? After everything that happened in this town, everything they had gone through… what they should’ve done was packed up and never looked back. Moved on with their lives. Gone their separate ways, like she had said the night they burned their clothes.

But that had been a ruse. This… this was real life.

Still, Betty thought, and not for the first time that maybe that would’ve been the right call in the end.

How much time passed after that before she saw movement, she couldn’t be sure, but her attention was alerted the moment he stood up from the booth. Taking in a deep breath, Betty slowly exhaled, continuing to observe. Neither Veronica nor Archie had shown up either. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she was less concerned about them in the moment than she was with the man in the diner, who was moving steadily toward the exit. 

This was it. Now or never.

Opening the drive side door, Betty quickly let herself out before he could make it to the parking lot, moving around to the end of her car where she leaned against her rear bumper. As the front door to Pop’s swung open and he started down the steps, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and she pulled in another shaking breath before letting it out as she called out to him.

“Jug!”

But he didn’t turn. Her heart was beating faster now, uncertain if he was just ignoring her. Maybe he had seen her pull in. Her 2017 Civic wasn’t exactly eye catching, but it also wasn’t familiar to him so maybe he had noticed it sitting there. Maybe he had been watching her this whole time too.

The thought made her heart pound faster. What if she had screwed this up?

“Jughead!” she called out again, as if he might not have heard her the first time. Still, he didn’t turn.

Her heartbeat had morphed into a steady buzzing in her ears now as her thoughts whirled around, chasing each other through her head in circles the way they had so many times before. There was no way he hadn’t heard her. No, this was him deliberately ignoring her, and she could feel her heart breaking all over again, just like it had in the Blue and Gold when she was begging Archie to break the news for her… just like it had in the parking lot of the Whyte Wyrm when they had broken up after her ill-timed striptease.

Just like it had in their bedroom the night she told him about the kiss.

Her breathing was coming in rapid, short bursts now, panic setting into her chest, and still, her head was buzzing as she struggled to keep her cool. Suddenly, she was running toward him, calling out for him as the static in her head seemed to grow louder and louder with every step.

“Jug! Jug!” 

But when Betty blinked, the sound of her phone vibrating on the pillow next to her ear told her that it had only been a dream. Well, a nightmare really. 

Then again, were there any other kind of dreams these days?

As her phone buzzed, she thought about how her therapist had suggested using the Do Not Disturb function at night – something about setting healthy boundaries for herself. But when she brought up her settings, she’d hesitated, thumb hovering above the toggle on her screen that had been grey rather than green.

It wasn’t like she was getting much sleep these days anyway, so really, what was the point?

And besides, Betty had told herself, she was Cheryl’s emergency contact. If something happened to her, or the twins needed anything, they had to be able to reach her.

That was it… The twins. She had to be available for them.

The ‘Allow Calls From’ function near the bottom of her screen had conveniently gone unnoticed.

But this morning, Betty almost wished that she had listened, the buzzing near her head growing more and more incessant with every ring. Eyes still half closed with sleep, she didn’t notice the number as she clumsily hit the green button. She had finally gotten to the point in her therapy where unexpected phone calls no longer sent her into panic attacks, so without much in the way of a second thought, she answered. As she spoke, her voice felt thick and dry, cracking with a wine-induced hoarseness.

“Hello?”

Given her sleep-addled brain in the moment, Betty wasn’t sure who she thought would be on the other end of the line. If someone had asked, she might’ve guessed her boss, or maybe her roommate Lauren. Lesser possibilities included her mother, or even Cheryl. But whoever might’ve sprang to her mind, Tom Keller would have invariably been somewhere close to dead last on that list.

“Sorry to wake you Betty. Do you have a moment to talk?”

______________________________________________________________________________

Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Third – who in his younger years had gone by the unfortunate moniker Jughead, and who had briefly entertained adopting ‘Scythe Jones ala Spike Jonze before deciding he didn’t wear nearly enough Slash Body Spray for something that ostentatious – found himself once again staring at the blank word document in front of him, nursing his fourth cup of coffee that… night? Morning? The heavy blackout curtains throughout his shared Hell’s Kitchen apartment would’ve made it anyone’s guess if not for the clock in the corner of his laptop, informing him that he had now been awake for 33 hours and counting.

But that was nothing. Those were amateur numbers.

Truthfully, he had never been a good sleeper. In part, that was because he’d never really had a home that he had felt safe enough to sleep in. At least, not until much later in his teen years, and by then, bad sleeping habits had become more of a lifestyle than something he could just fix by cutting back on his caffeine.

Besides, he always seemed to do his best writing in the wee hours of the morning, when no one else but Pop Tate was awake in Riverdale.

That Pop Tate had never slept in the entire time he had known him had not escaped his notice. He just… chose not to question it.

Still, his track record of poor sleeping didn’t prevent the lecture that he knew was forthcoming the moment he heard keys jingling outside the front door. After a few seconds, and a not nearly as quiet as she thought cry of ‘Goddammit’, his best friend and fellow insomniac made her way in through the door. A wall of chestnut hair blocked most of her face until she’d locked up behind her, finally turning to see him sitting at his writing desk.

“Dude,” she admonished immediately, her tone equal parts concerned and exasperated as she dropped her keys into the green glass bowl on the table inside the door. It had been a thrift store find, along with a pitcher made of the same green glass that she referred to as ‘ _ her _ margarita pitcher’, since she had immediately decided that it only held enough alcohol for her. “At least take a shower.”

“Good morning to you too, Virginia,” he drawled as he turned his body in his chair toward the woman. He had met one Virginia Louise Holliday – Jinx, if you didn’t want to get hit – shortly after dropping out of Iowa and moving back to New York. His first book,  _ The Boy in the River _ , had become an instant best-seller, not as fiction but as a true-crime piece. His very own  _ Helter Skelter _ . It wasn’t what he had planned on writing, but the money had been good enough to move him back to the city, and allowed him to rent a place close to a checkerboard diner with good coffee and a sarcastic waitress -- one who let him stay as long as he wanted, and would even listen to his stories so long as he tipped.

And when money got tight, well… he was fortunate to have her friendship, to say nothing of the years of experience cooking for himself and Jellybean that wouldn’t entirely go to waste. It wasn’t glamorous, and he came home smelling like grease and onions more times than not, but Stan paid a fair wage, and was accommodating with his schedule when he cashed in on a public speaking circuit to talk about his book.

But now his publisher was cracking down. “You mean I can’t float forever on  _ The Boy in the River _ ,” he had joked, earning himself a withering stare from his agent, Sam. Whether it was because of his shitty pun or his work ethic, he wasn’t sure. Didn’t bother asking either.

In turn, Sam had tossed out the idea of a follow up series. The Black Hood. The Gargoyle King. “We could call it  _ The Riverdale Crime Chronicles _ ,” Sam had suggested, and he had to admit, the thought was tempting. Still, capitalizing on more of the horrors of his small town felt… uncomfortable. The Jason Blossom story had been national news, and it was only a matter of time before someone wrote about it. At least he would treat it with the respect and reverence it deserved – which had been exactly what he told Cheryl when asking for her okay.

But did he really owe that courtesy to anyone else?

“I’m serious, Jones,” Jinx said, cutting into his thoughts. “You were sitting in that exact same position when I left for Bernie’s  _ two days ago _ . If I have to hose you down again with the sink sprayer—”

Luckily, the ringing of his phone saved him from whatever personal hygiene related tirade she was about to go on.

“I’ve gotta take this,” he told his friend, not even bothering to look at the screen as he swiped his thumb across it. If he had cast a glance at it at all, he might’ve at least hesitated… maybe even let it go to voicemail.

As it was, he answered with a quick “Hello?” as Jinx rolled her eyes, walking over to throw open the living room curtains. Sunlight streamed in through the glass, illuminating the dust and making him blink and shield his vision before he shifted to cradle his phone with his shoulder, freeing up his other hand to flip her the bird. Still, even as he struggled to adjust to the sudden shift in brightness, his disgruntled face was only partially due to her antics, the voice on the other line accounting for the rest of his suddenly foul mood.

“Keller… to what do I owe this…” A beat of pause as he searched for the right way to describe a phone call from a man who tormented his family for years under the guise of police work. Though really, there was only one that succinctly summed up his feelings toward the former cop. “Dubious pleasure?”

______________________________________________________________________________

“Mmmm, if you don’t stop, I’m going to be late for class…”

Veronica felt the man in her bed smile against the skin of her neck, the short stubble of his beard brushing the column of her throat as his mouth widened before ghosting down to press another kiss to her clavicle. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to let him keep going, but she was  _ finally _ getting caught up after missing a few days thanks to a purse snatching gone wrong, and she couldn’t afford to fall behind again.

“God forbid,” her beau teased, earning himself a light tap on his hip for his sass, even as she stretched out beneath his broad frame. It was nice, after everything, to feel the safety of his warmth above her, and she was just as loathe to leave it as he was to let her go… though she wasn’t going to tell him that.

Not yet, anyway.

“Now  _ how _ am I supposed to keep you in the lifestyle to which you want to become accustomed to, Matthew Turner, if I don’t finish my law degree? Hmmm?”

That had earned a light chuckle from her boyfriend, who finally lifted his head to look up at her, dark blue eyes carrying the perpetual hint of mischief that they always did. Without breaking their eye contact, he pressed his smirk against her collarbone again and then nuzzled along her shoulder, which drew a soft sigh from her lips.

This man was Trouble. Fortunately for her, it was her favorite kind.

“I do love waking up in a bed that occupies two different zip codes. On the other hand, I  _ did  _ just buy that new set of sheets from Target. 450 thread count, and they even  _ match, _ ” he countered with another dip of his lips into the crook of her neck – a kiss that, along with his joke about his new bedding, earned a soft giggle from her.

“Yes, but the real question is… did you remember to buy socks?” she asked, pursing her lips together to try and keep a straight face as he let out a groan and lifted his head to look at her again.

“I told you, I didn’t have time to go home and change them! Plus, I wasn’t actually expecting the date to go well. And it  _ didn’t _ , so I thought I was home free!”

Another giggle escaped her as she leaned forward to press a real kiss to his lips, brown eyes falling closed as she reveled in his presence. They had only been dating for about a month, but every moment she had spent with one Officer Matthew Turner of the 40 th precinct had Veronica feeling keenly aware that she was falling in love with the man. He was sweet and funny; charming and humble. 

Genuine.

Something no other man in her life had ever been, however hard they may have pretended otherwise.

“One should always be prepared, on the off chance they have to swoop in and rescue an Alexander McQueen handbag in distress, Matthew.” Really, Veronica was eternally grateful that he had been there, in the right place, at the right time that night. A blind date gone wrong for him had put him on a crash course with the man who had mugged her, and the rest was, as they said, history.

Still, no matter how much she liked him, that didn’t stop her from poking fun at the holey sock he had worn on a  _ date _ – something that she had discovered once he had removed his shoes when she had invited him back to her apartment for a thank you drink after the whole terrible affair.

Whatever she said otherwise though, however much grief she gave him, she was endlessly charmed by his roughneck nature… something she made sure to --  _ demonstrate _ to him as often as their busy schedules allowed.

“I’ll be sure to remember that for next time,” he fired back with a grin, earning him an arched eyebrow. She had been just about to ask how many other women he was performing heroics for, even if she already knew the answer, but was distracted instead by the ringing of her phone.

“Saved by the phone call.” Pressing another kiss to her cheek, Matt rolled off her, allowing Veronica to reach across her side of the bed to pick her phone up off her night table. She barely heard him as he shuffled off to go make coffee, the name on her screen thoroughly distracting her. Dark brows furrowed together in both surprise and confusion before she slid her finger across the screen to answer.

“Sheriff Keller?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line and she heard the man suck in a breath before he spoke. Suddenly, there was a pit in her stomach, and a chill swept across the back of her neck, making the fine hairs there stand straight up on end.

“Veronica, I’m going to need you to come up to the station. There’s something—well, it’s your dad…”


End file.
